Weary to the core of the never-ending bore that is our winter, this week I surrendered and did what thousands of Michiganders do every year. I fled. I grabbed my 19-year-old son and headed to Florida to catch a few a Detroit Tigers spring training games in Lakeland.

Here’s a mini-diary of our journey, in handy-dandy bullet form:

• Sam’s a great kid and a good traveling buddy. He’s sacrificing part of his spring break to hang with his old man and watch some baseball when I know he’d rather be home with his friends. What's better than that?

• We’re at the airport. Excited. Ready to get out of town. On we go! … or not. On its way to pick us up, our plane got stuck in Chicago by the snow. Snow is becoming the Newman to my Jerry. (Old Seinfeld reference. Fans will know what I mean.) Release thy grip, foul winter!

• Nine hours after we left the house, we’re here. Still, I will forever think modern transportation is a marvel. Here are the transportation devices we used to make the 1,200 mile trip from Grand Blanc to our hotel room in Lakeland: mid-sized sedan, airport shuttle bus, airport escalator, airport moving sidewalk, jet, tram train, extremely small sub-compact car, hotel elevator. I wonder what Magellan would think of all this.

• Marvel or not, there is no better feeling than when they say it’s time to de-plane. See ya later stale air, coughing/sneezing lady behind me and broken seat back tray table.

• Whatever happened to airline peanuts? I miss those. And Spirit Airlines charges for carry-ons. If that’s not a crime, it ought to be.

• First thing I did in Lakeland is text a photo of the green trees outside my hotel window. I miss color. Living in Michigan in winter is like living inside a black and white film.

• For breakfast, took Sam to a Waffle House, which are all over the South. We sat at the counter between senior citizens and bikers. He had biscuits and gravy. I had waffles and sausage, even though I'm not supposed to eat like that. Don't tell my doctor.

• The woman at the counter gave me the following directions: “Go yonder thar a mah, under ah fo, and turn lef.” Anyone care to translate? It meant “go in that direction for a mile, under the I-4 overpass and turn left.” Love the South.

• At Joker Marchant stadium. It’s only 60 degrees, but it’s sunny. And to my winter weary bones, 60 degrees feels like 80. We’re lying on the grass berm behind the left field wall. If this isn’t heaven, I don’t know what is.

• Just passed a vendor under the grandstands selling “Flint-style coneys with Abbott’s meat sauce.” Whattya know , a taste of home.

• Looking around, you can tell who the Michiganders are – they’re the ones who are sunburned tomato red. I shall soon join them.

• Justin Verlander is pitching against the Blue Jays. He doesn’t throw over 92 mph but doesn’t have to. The Blue Jays best players aren’t here today. They’re in the World Classic tournament in Venezuela. Tigers win 4-1.

• After the game we drove around Lakeland, which I haven’t seen in 20 years. My, how it’s grown. Malls have moved in and the downtown looks far prettier than I remember.

• Game No. 2 - Tigers vs. the Mets. The Tigers win 3-2. Bruce Rondon, who might close for the team, hits 98 mph on the radar gun. In warmups. In the game he notched 100.

• One thing you can’t help notice in Florida is how perfect all the roads are. I didn’t see a single pothole or crack in the roads. Floridians, do you how good you've got it?

• Sam just convinced me to go on my first roller coaster ride since Space Mountain in 1978. From a dead start, Cheetah Chase goes 60 mph in the first two seconds (not an exaggeration – they brag about this), then straight up for about a million feet, then straight down for another million. And that’s all within the first hundred yards. I am sicker than a dog. And it’s all Sam’s fault.